


an explosion behind our eyes

by LittleLimey



Category: Life of the Party D&D (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Bondage, Choking, Dry Humping, Exhibitionism, F/M, Face-Fucking, Fucking Machines, Gags, Hand Jobs, Kitchen Sex, Laughter During Sex, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic During Sex, Mirror Sex, Much smut inside, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Penis In Vagina Sex, Riding, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Voyeurism, heavy makeouts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 10:13:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23349724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLimey/pseuds/LittleLimey
Summary: the Life of the Party Discord had a sin fest Friday and someone brought out NSFW prompts. I grabbed some and ranprompts are in progress, more ideas may be added/expanded upon at a later date
Relationships: Aerenthias/Sariel, Astra/Vanden (Life of the Party), Cassian/Astra (Life of the Party), Cassian/Astra/Vanden, Cassian/Renard (Life of the Party), Elyse/Sariel (Life of the Party), Vanden/Aerenthias
Comments: 2
Kudos: 63





	1. Cassian/Vanden/Astra

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter contains face-fucking, slight sensory deprivation, and exhibitionism/voyeurism

The lovely thing about Astra’s hair and horns were that they made holding onto him so very easy to do. It was very easy to manipulate him, turn his head just so, tilt him back until his back arched and his breath came in short, shallow gasps while Cassian kissed at his exposed throat. He’d bite as well, leave perfect purple blossoms across his skin. Sometimes he’d hold Astra’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, but that would sometimes obstruct the way to the tiefling’s lips, and Cassian wanted no part of that. 

He knew Astra’s hair was an important thing. He’d had a talk with Astra, when the pair of them were naked and sweating and Astra’s head was resting on Cassian’s chest, and Cassian’s hair was combing through Astra’s hair. 

“Would you be happy for me to pull on this?”, he’d asked Astra. While Astra had hesitated to reply, there was such a colouring to his cheeks that Cassian was sure he’d found a good thing. 

“I-I mean, you could try”, Astra had responded. “I wouldn’t be against it.” And so Cassian had slowly, lazily pulled Astra’s hair to the side, and he’d made such a pretty moan that quickly Cassian was flipping them over to straddle him and kiss him fiercely.

Right now, Astra was on his knees. It was a lovely picture, always very pretty. This time he was still in the garments that Cassian had dressed him up in, the golden chains barely making a sound with each movement, a silver silken scarf around his eyes. And Vanden was perched on a couch nearby, leaning backwards and with his legs spread just wide enough for the tent to be noticeable. 

Normally he made commands. Tonight he was silent, but with a smile to his lips. Maybe he knew the game that was being played. 

Cassian placed a finger in the middle of Astra’s head and his spine straightened into the touch, a sharp breath being pulled out. His hands weren’t bound but stayed stiff to his sides, just as he’d been told. Very good, he’d be rewarded sooner rather than later. 

“That’s lovely”, Cassian said, rolling his voice into a hungry purr. He could see Astra shiver slightly, a tremble of need. This only continued when Cassian began to circle around him, bending down to trail his fingers over an exposed shoulder, or brush his thumb over Astra’s cheek or chin or lips. There was gold lipstick there tonight. Gorgeous gold, like those hidden eyes. 

“You’re very beautiful like this”, Cassian continued to speak. “Draped in gold. On your knees for me. Sweet, perfect, pretty Astra. You’re so wonderfully obedient.” Over Astra’s shoulder Cassian could nearly  _ feel _ the shudder through Vanden. It seemed his words weren’t just affecting Astra. Standing in front of Astra’s face, he shucked off his trousers and set them aside, then fisted his hand into Astra’s hair. There was a gasp of surprise, then a slow whine. 

“Open your mouth for me, my pearl”, he said. Astra did so, and Cassian pushed his cock onto those golden waiting lips. Immediately Astra sucked, and Cassian choked on a gasp of his own.

“Cheeky”, he muttered, and the hand in Astra’s hair tightened. 

“Is he giving you trouble?”, Vanden finally spoke up, and Cassian bit down a displeased grumble. Instead he focused down, on the silver blindfold and golden lips wrapping around his cock, how Astra whined still and his tongue flicked kitten licks up along Cassian’s length inside his mouth. Taking his horns this time, Cassian pulled his cock out until just the head was behind Astra’s lips and the tiefling was trying to lean forward to chase him, and then pushed the cock back inside.

Perhaps not the best timing, as Astra was still leaning forward and Cassian felt his cock hit the back of Astra’s throat. Cassian went to pull out and check that Astra was fine, but his moan rippled through them both and was swiftly followed by a moan from Vanden. 

“Do you like that?”, Cassian asked breathlessly, and Astra made an affirmative noise through his cock. Well, would you believe it. He took a moment to look up to Vanden, see that the prince had a hand in his trousers, and then squeezed hold of Astra’s horns once more. 

“You know to tap me if it gets too much”, he reminded Astra, it was always better to remind him, and began to thrust his cock into his mouth. The moaning kicked up again, heavy with pleasure, as did Vanden’s low gasps from his side of the room. Judging from the movements of his hand, he wasn’t seeking release all too quickly. And judging from the hot gaze he was fixing on Cassian, he wanted release from someone other than himself. Returning that gaze, Cassian tugged Astra’s head in closer, fucked his cock further into his mouth. Astra’s tongue still wasn’t giving up, rolling up against the head of his cock while his cheeks squeezed in and made Cassian shudder. 

“Oh, you’re good, you’re so good”, he groaned out. “You’re doing a wonderful job, Astra. So good for my cock, taking it all in.” 

“You can go faster”, Vanden commented, no, ordered. There was a difference of firmness to those two tones, and Cassian knew an order when he heard it. 

“I didn’t realise you were in charge today,  _ my liege _ ”, Cassian replied, but snapped his hips forward with a quicker pace. For his own pleasure, of course, and for Astra’s if the whining was anything to go by. Still, Cassian’s words got a pleasant response. Vanden’s cheeks reddened and he got up from his seat, beginning to approach. 

“Or perhaps I’m getting impatient”, he said. Cassian’s eyebrow arched, and he slowly released Astra’s hair. His cock slipped free of his lips, the skin now shiny with precum, saliva and golden lipstick. Astra exhaled slowly, and Cassian stroked the top of his scalp. A good boy indeed. But he kept his gaze locked with Vanden.

“Impatient, huh?”, he said, and his tone seemed to lock Vanden up slightly. “Well then…..you should get on your knees then.”


	2. Vanden/Aerenthias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains sexual favour negotiation, heavy make-outs, wall sex (?) and dry humping.

Vanden didn’t like to owe favours.

It was like having weights tied to his shoulders, the ropes looping around someone’s wrist to tug when they pleased and when he was least expecting it. They could hold him back, or tug too hard to choke him. He preferred to get rid of favours quickly, to repay the debt before too much time passed and the other found a problem that they could levy the prince for. He knew how to deal with favours.

He was very good at getting rid of favours.

Which was why he was now stood in this tavern bedroom, Aerenthias following after him with a curious look in his eye and his tail flicking too and fro behind him.

“We probably should make this chat quick”, he commented. “If I dally away too long then Joss will think I’ve gotten into trouble again.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t blame her for that”, Vanden replied, a shrug and a small amused tug to his lips. That would be like Auntie Jocelyn, very good at keeping her men in line (even when they weren’t her men to begin with). He shook the thought away, after allowing a brief moment of recollection, warm moments before all of this began.

First, he looked Aerenthias over. The tiefling was inexplicably handsome, not irritatingly so (there was a specific someone who fit that description, and Vanden had to bat away the image before he dared focus on it), with a well cut jawline and shoulders, maybe even good chest muscles under his jacket. It made Vanden curious, crave a need to pluck those jacket buttons upon and pull the shirt up, see what was beneath. He pushed his focus to Aerenthias’ face, those clever eyes and warm smirk. 

“So, what can I do for you, my…” Aerenthias’ gaze flicked across Vanden’s face, and for a moment Vanden swore he was being examined the same way that he’d just done the same with Aerenthias. It made his cheeks burn, either embarrassment or arousal, or both. “....my friend.”

“I want to thank you for all the help you’ve provided us”, Vanden explained, the words rolling practised off his tongue. “Your assistance has been really, astoundingly invaluable. Bringing Jocelyn and my group together, helping us against the Weeping Eye, all of that. We’re in your debt, Aerenthias.”

“Pfft, nonsense.” He waved an airy hand and Vanden had to bite down on heat in his throat. “I wanted to help Jocelyn. I wanted to help you, my prince. There is no debt about it.”

“We still owe you a favour”, Vanden explained. “ _I_ still owe you a favour.” His gaze again flicked downwards, over Aerenthias’ jacket, down to his trousers, then back up to his face. “I want to repay that favour.”

“...Vanden.” Oh _fuck_ , why was Aerenthias’ voice so chiding? So damnably sympathetic? The burning in his cheeks rose even higher, until Vanden thought flames would explode from his face. Then he registered Aerenthias’s finger moving towards his chin and he shied away rapidly from the incoming touch. To his due credit, Aerenthias did not pursue. 

“I won’t be having ‘nearly dying to necrotic wounds’ be repaid by sex, even if it’s by my own prince”, Aerenthias said softly. “I don’t know what kind of crowd you’ve been with-”

“Exactly”, Vanden snapped. “You don’t. Just let me do this.” For my own sake, he whispered at the back of his head. Aerenthias tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing in consideration as he approached a step, pushing Vanden to take another step away and - oh. The tavern wall was at his back

Vanden had a second to register this before Aerenthias was kissing him. 

It was a hard, heavy press of his lips to Vanden’s, the pressure grounding him against the wooden wall. Vanden felt no scream at his throat, no pain on his skin. Only authoritative firmness to Aerenthias’ hand on his shoulder, the other propping them both up as he kissed him. With that in mind, Vanden began to reciprocate, chasing the other man’s lips when he moved back to breath in, snatching another kiss and being rewarded with a low rumble that could well have been a hidden growl before Aerenthias was kissing him again. 

He was moving in even closer now, hips pressing against Vanden’s, his cock hot through the fabric and rubbing up against Vanden’s own tent of interest. Greedy kisses sucked the air from Vanden’s lungs, made him pant breathless with each brief moment that Aerenthias had to pull slightly back to breathe as well. 

“I will not fuck you like a brat on a street corner”, Aerenthias hissed out through his lips, teeth brushing against Vanden’s neck. A shudder ran through Vanden, a moan punched out of his chest. A heavy thigh pressed against his crotch and another moan was dragged out as his hips rocked instinctively against the pressure. “And yet you insist on acting like one. A rentboy. Looking to repay his favours with sex.”

The words burned. Differently to the blush in his cheeks, running down Vanden’s back to his crotch. He shuddered, and felt Aerenthias press another heavy kiss to his lips, and then something far more tender to his neck. Despite the tenderness, it still came accompanied by those fangs dragging against his skin, pushing a low moan from Vanden's throat.  


“My liege”, he whispered. “My prince. If I will fuck you, it’s because you’re one of most fucking handsome men I’ve been gifted to meet, and because you’re extremely sexy when pressed up against a wall like this.” A grin entered his voice as he spoke, and his thigh pushed against Vanden’s cock again. Biting down on his lip, he whined and rocked his hips again, this time bringing a gentle laugh to Aerenthias’ lips.

“That’s lovely”, he murmured, and began to rub his thigh more fervently against Vanden’s crotch. At the same time his own crotch rocked against Vanden’s hips, and he began to let out deep groans of pleasure. Reaching up, Vanden found purchase on the back of Aerenthias’ jacket and clung on for dear life, the two of them humping at each other while they kissed, Aerenthias’ tongue pressing on Vanden’s lower lip like a hot pressing poker. Soon Vanden couldn't kiss anymore, because his mouth was too occupied in trying to hide the whines of pleasure escaping him, no matter how much he bit his lips together or shoved his face into Aerenthias' shoulder. The rub of fabric on his sensitive skin was too much and yet not enough, his hips pressing harder as he tried to chase a better sensation. Clawed fingers unlaced Vanden’s trousers, pulling his cock free and rubbing against it with eagerness, and that heat was just what Vanden needed. With a long, low moan, Vanden rocked as his release rode through him, while he rode on Aerenthias’ thigh and streaked his hand with cum. Aerenthias was soon to follow, shuddering and coming to a still. Vanden did not envy the state of his underwear (if he was even wearing any). 

“That”, Aerenthias breathed out, and needed a moment to inhale and chuckle with warmth. “That was something I think we both needed. Next time though, I would much prefer to do it when we had more time available to us, and when you could order me onto a bed.” He stepped away, beginning to readjust his clothing. “....Do you need anything further from me?”

“No”, Vanden said quickly, too quickly if the flinch in Aerenthias’ shoulders was anything to go by. For a moment he thought Aerenthias would leave just like that, and panic turned his heel fast. “Wait, I- kiss me again.”

The languid smile that Aerenthias gifted Vanden was something he treasured in quiet nights later on. This time their kiss was slow, fervent, passionate. It was easy to lean into, for Vanden to touch the back of Aerenthias’ neck, fingers sliding under his ponytail. This time when they parted, they were breathless again, but for an entirely different reason.

“I want to do this again too”, Vanden said. Aerenthias laughed with warm agreement, and Vanden felt part of the world shift from under his feet.


	3. Aerenthias/Sariel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains roleplay, oral sex, and riding. It's also very soft and not serious, with much laughter and checking in during scenes.

Not for the first time in his life, Aerenthias was kneeling on a wooden floor, his hands behind his back but palms loosely resting in a cupped hold. He’d been dressed down to just his shirt and trousers, the shirt itself tastefully tugged open so it showed off his chest, and the belt line of his trousers pulled up to fit snugly over his hips, the tight leathers hugging the angles and curves and beginnings of interest between his thighs. He was aware his boots were discarded somewhere in the room. So what if he’d lost track. He didn’t care. He was much too preoccupied in looking up in blissful adoration at the woman stood in front of him.

Sariel looked down at him, a playful smile lighting up her face (what a face, the moon couldn’t have gifted a more softly beautiful view). She was dressed in Aerenthias’ old navy jacket, stolen away when he’d been dismissed and secreted around just in case of any potential benefits it could provide. Right now that benefit was that it hung off her very sweetly, the sleeves partially rolled up and the shoulders too large on her, but if anything that just showed off the slender frame beneath the coat. It certainly emphasised the fact she was very naked underneath the coat, the open jacket revealing plenty for Aerenthias to admire from his position. His hat perched on her head as well, slightly tilted backward in an attempt to keep it from dropping down over her forehead and eyes. 

“It has come to my attention that you, sir, have been dabbling in piracy”, Sariel said, her voice taking on the haughty tone of commodores and admirals that Aerenthias was so used to. 

“Well, ma’am, I  _ am _ a privateer”, he responded.

“Don’t be cheeky to me.” The hat began to slip as she turned her head, forcing Sariel to nudge it up, and a faint laugh escaped her that was definitely not part of the scene. Neither of them cared. Aerenthias thought it was perfectly endearing and it meant she was having a good time. Sariel was just living for this amusement. 

“You know the rules, captain”, she continued, beginning to pace around him. Aerenthias tried to turn his head to follow, but she tapped his shoulder sharply, and he returned back to facing forward. “I will not abide pirates in my navy.”

“Maybe I am a pirate posing as a privateer”, he said, seeing her come back around towards his other side and raising his eyebrows in his favoured teasing manner. Sariel let out another soft laugh and a quiet “Stop that”. Aerenthias simply chuckled and sat back again on his knees.

“If you are indeed a pirate, I must have you properly punished”, she said. “A rugged, handsome pirate such as yourself must know that kind of punishment he deserves.”

“I am at your whim, my lady”, he replied with a bow of his head. “I have been duly caught by your skill, and now I give myself to your mercy.”

“Mercy you will have.” Lifting up a foot, her toes touched at his chin and raised his head back up to look at her. Hands on the bedposts, reclining back slightly to keep her balance, and with a perfect hungry smile that made Aerenthias feel like the lamb to be set upon by a wolf. It ran shudders down his back, hot need building in his crotch, and Sariel knew all of this. She drank it all in, setting herself firmly in front of Aerenthias. 

“Keep your hands to yourself, pirate”, she told him. “And persuade me to let you go.”

“I find I can be very persuasive”, he said, voice softening as his focus kept drawing down towards her legs, to her vagina. “I have an excellent silver tongue.”

“Put it to good work then”, she replied. And he most certainly did, leaning forward to draw a long lick of his tongue up her entrance to her clit. Immediately he could feel her response, a sharp inhale and her hand fisting into his hair. Stroking his eagerness, he pressed ahead, drawing now between the folds and up properly into her vagina entrance. Rolling his tongue around her clit had the best effect, made her legs shudder either side of his head and he could hear her whispering his name, a soft mantra of pleasure. How dearly he wanted to reach up and touch her legs, press his hands to her thighs and hold her close, hold her steady, feel her warmth, feel how alive she was. 

But his lady had given him an order, and Aerenthias squeezed on his wrist to keep his hands steady while he pushed his mouth to her entrance, lapping up into the tight heat and moaning against her. Sariel’s fingers flexed in his hair, traced over his horns but didn’t grab and hold, instead the nails pushed down against his scalp as she sought to find a kinder grip. She managed to press against the back of his head, pushing him harder against herself and groaning in pleasure as his tongue pressed in deeper and with greater enthusiasm. 

“A-Aerenthias”, she gasped out. He wanted to respond, wanted to whisper her name in return, but his lips pressed against her clit instead and he praised her with flicking his tongue across the nub of nerves. Unable to hold back, her hands tugged tight on his hair as her back arched forward, a cry spilling out with her orgasm, which Aerenthias in turn continued to lap away from her. Only when she pushed on his forehead did he relent and settle back on his heels again, a thin line of saliva trailing from his lips.

“Have I made my argument well?”, he questioned, smiling up to the trembling Sariel, her hands still on his head and her lips parted with slow and heavy breathing, a glow to her cheeks and the tips of her ears. The moon had nothing on this sort of radiance.

“I think I need a little more persuading”, Sariel murmured. “But you will need to get rid of those trousers and get on the bed.”

Aerenthias beamed, and got quickly to his feet, reaching up to cup her arms and - no, she batted his hands away. Briefly a nervous pang tightened his stomach, concern roiling as he glanced over to her expression. But no, there was no panic or bared teeth, there was amusement and hunger and more, craving of more. 

“I said no hands”, she reminded him, and Aerenthias bowed his head. 

“Accept my humblest apologies, my lady”, he said.

“I will accept far more from you once you get on the bed.” Then she cupped his chin, brought him down for a long and tender kiss that the pair melted into for the seconds or hours she allowed, until she stepped back and patted his cheek. “Chop chop.”

Aerenthias was very good at taking off his trousers. He was pretty sure he beat his own personal record in that moment, not just because they caught on his ankles and nearly tripped him onto the bed. 

“I am a proper pirate, I meant to do that”, he said while Sariel laughed behind him, standing aside while the trousers were tossed aside to be lost like his boots already had been. Within moments she was straddling him on the bed, his head sinking down between the pillows to avoid damaging them from his horns, his jacket splaying out around her thighs and his hips, the hat  _ still _ perched wonderfully on her head. Now even more Aerenthias wanted to reach up to her, rub his hands over her breasts and make her whine in that lovely way she did when he rolled a thumb over her nipple. His fingers twitched as he let them lay up by his shoulders, watching Sariel rock against his hard cock and her fingers smear slick oil over the hot ridged skin. Even just that touch made him groan out in pleasure, having been so in need of sensation for a long time now. She was certainly taking her time in playing with him, her thumb rubbing between the ridges to see them swell in interest, rub over them and relish how each would feel sliding into her. 

“Are you sure you yourself don’t want more preparation?”, he asked her, voice slipping out from the scene. “I know I was very thorough before-”

“It’ll be fine”, Sariel told him. “You did well, good sailor, clever silver-tongued pirate. Now….I want to see you keep persuading me from turning you over to the authorities.” Rising up briefly, she slowly sank down onto his cock. She was tighter than Aerenthias had braced himself for, and his head fell back onto the bed as he moaned out Sariel’s name. Sariel too was forced to pause, adjusting to the thickness and heat inside her now, her fingers pressed against Aerenthias’ chest as she pushed him into her, until she was fully seated on his hips once more.

“You are….you are divine, my lady”, he gasped. His hips rocked up to meet her’s and raised her briefly off the bed, the hat rocking to the side and forcing her to readjust again. 

“Careful, brigand”, she admonished him, but they were both chuckling quietly, shared delight on their faces mixed with their pleasure. 

“I am a lowly sailor to you, ma’am. You are incredible, you are-” He groaned as Sariel sank back down on him again, squeezing his cock, soft whines beginning to come from her. “-You are fantastic.”

“Aerenthias”, she gasped, and it only spurred him on.

“You are incredible, my lady. Kindly, good-hearted, strong-willed. You and the moon are equal in beauty and radiance, as if Sehanine had gifted you well”, the words poured out from his breathless lips, both of them now in gasps as Sariel rolled her hips against his, riding him and the push and pull of his cock in and out from her leaving them both moaning.

“I could gaze upon you day and night. Not even the stars could compare themselves to you, they only serve to guide me on my way to your side again. No matter how far. I would come back to you always, to kiss your hands and your forehead, to entangle myself within your arms, become lost in your beauty and never leave again.”

“Aerenthias!” Bowing over him, Sariel let out a long moan and Aerenthias could feel the pulse of her heartbeat through his cock as her cunt tightened firmly on him. He pressed his wrist to his mouth, biting down to hold down a shout as his building crest swayed and rushed through him, heat spilling from himself into her with the orgasm. 

They breathed. Her forehead against his, eyes closed, warmth numbing their limbs. 

“I think you’ve provided a very thorough argument”, Sariel finally managed to say. “Thorough enough that I may just recommend you become my personal advisor.”

“Personal advisor, now that sounds like an excellent position to use my clever tongue”, Aerenthias said with a purr and a chuckle, and Sariel burst into proper laughter this time.

“You’re terrible!”, she squeezed through the giggles. “Horrible! Terrible pirate! I shall have you sent to the dungeon!”

“Keeping me all for yourself, I believe”, Aerenthias responded, urging Sariel into another spiel of laughter. It proved very much contagious, his chest rising with laughter of his own as the pair lay together.

“Can I touch you, my lady?”, he asked her. “Please?”

“You may”, she replied, her arms looping around the back of his neck, and he held her tight against him, unwilling to let her go again. 


	4. Vande/Astra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains sleepy morning fluff, hand-jobs in the kitchen, and love confessions (?). It's also based on a modern university AU.

Morning. Sunlight pressing through floral curtains, dappling the walls and houseplants on their shelves in shades of teal and aqua. Dust motes blinking in and out like tiny stars when they caught the thin sheer of light that made it between the curtains. The air humid and smelling of leaves, dirt, musk, old clothes and lavender. Pastel green sheets, thick with old duvet stuffing, gathered up at Astra’s chin. The huge pillows and old mattress-combination-duvet below him let him sink down just enough to make him feel swaddled in softness, held in gentle arms.

No. Wait. There were proper arms too. Flopping his head to the side, Astra looked over the soft face and freckled features of Vanden, head dropped back onto his pillow but his arms locked up around Astra’s waist. It was such a lovely face to wake up to. For once there wasn’t a furrow of displeasure or stress, and there wasn’t any weight to his body for him to carry. Vanden asleep, dreamless, in Astra’s bed, with a lingering softness on his face from the previous night, was a gift that Astra hadn’t quite expected to ever receive. And yet here it was. Unwrapped perfectly, naked under the bedsheets just like Astra, his hair flaring on the pillow like a smouldering halo. From how his head tilted back, Astra could see the reddened hickies he’d left on Vanden’s throat, and the smear of freckles that reached down from his face to his chest and across his shoulders. Some of the trickling light from the window flowed down over his forehead, turning tousled hair into flickers of flame. 

Astra rolled onto his side, his chin rest on his bicep as he admired the sleeping figure next to him. The urge to lean in and kiss him rolled around his mind, slow and thick sweet with the heaviness of molasses. But he didn’t. Not yet. He would let Vanden sleep more since he very much needed it, and in the meantime he would go about his morning duties as his schedule demanded of it. With tender hands he unwrapped Vanden’s arms from his hips, watching the young royal grumble in his sleep and cling on to another pillow instead, pulling it into a death grip. 

“Adorable”, Astra mumbled under his breath, a bright smile to his face. The first shirt in the room he could find was a soft blue jumper, the university track team logo emblazoned on the back. It didn’t exactly cover extremities but he was within his own home, and it was all he needed to keep any chill off from himself that came with rolling out of bed. 

Within his room, he took his water spray bottle to the violets, the swiss cheese plant, the lavender and the fiddle-leaf fig. Out into his apartment corridor, he treated the devil’s ivy (“You’re doing lovely, good job”), the philodendron, the small gathering of kentia palms peeking out various doorways (“You’ll be able to go back in the kitchen in a couple months, be patient”). 

Taking a side-glance into the hallway mirror, a beautiful silver antique that he couldn’t understand why anyone would have discarded, Astra caught sight of his own multiple hickies along his throat line and up his neck. He knew they descended down along his chest, and to look down properly he might even see them still on his hips, along with finger-shaped bruises along his hip-bones and across his butt, from when Vanden had clutched on tight as he thrust into Astra. Oh. That was a lovely thought. Astra watched his reflection turn soft purple in the cheeks as a pleased reflective smile arose, before he continued walking along the hallway towards the kitchen.

Once all the plants flooding through his apartment had been sufficiently sprayed (“You’re thirsty this morning. That’s fine, I’ll give you seconds”) Astra started work on breakfast. Normally he would just make himself toast with excessive amounts of jam (it wasn’t excessive, but Elyse had described it as that once and he’d never forgotten) but he knew Vanden was asleep in his bedroom, so he had plans for a nicer, better breakfast. He always wanted to treat Vanden when he came over, if only because he knew he probably was more used to finer dining, even with breakfasts. Maybe one day Astra would go out and find out more about these ‘pop tarts’ that Vanden had mentioned before. They were probably expensive. That was fine for him.

Taking some bananas that were starting to look at the end of ripeness and tipping into browning, Astra peeled and weighed them, mushing them firmly into a bowl and adding in flour and several tablespoons of water and oil. It was a swiftly made creamy batter, and he didn’t need to be delayed by having to dig out recipe books since he knew the recipe off by heart, practised over many occasions, many sleepy mornings when he needed the extra dose of sugar and energy. Leaning across the kitchen counter, he grabbed the cinnamon shaker and tipped a couple teaspoons worth into the batter, standing back up straight and meeting a person at his back.

It was forehead first, meeting his shoulders, which suggested that Vanden was slouched forward enough that his head got to Astra before the rest of him did. Next came the arms, hands circling around Astra’s waist before the arms pulled him in, bringing his chest up firmly to the rest of Astra’s back. Astra could feel the shift at his shoulders, how forehead softened to one of Vanden’s cheeks, his face leaning into the tiefling’s back. 

“Oh, good morning”, Astra chirped, keeping his voice to a soft volume. For all he knew Vanden was probably still mostly asleep, despite being on his feet. “I didn’t want to wake you, so I started making breakfast.”

“You stole my jumper”, was the sleep-addled, low growling response. 

“I-I know. Is that bad? I know you’ve put me in your clothes before but that was for other stuff and if you don’t like it-”

“No.” Vanden’s quick response cut Astra’s nervous ramble off mid-way. Taking a cursory look over his shoulder, Astra looked down to warm blue eyes, crinkled in fatigue but very much pleased and aroused. “It’s definitely not bad. I like it a lot.” 

“Good”, Astra said softly. He began to turn around in Vanden’s arms, to dip his head down and kiss him good morning, but a firm tightening of the muscles locked him into place.

“Not yet”, Vanden mumbled, his face nuzzled back and forth slowly against Astra’s back. 

“Oh, okay.” Placing his hands on the kitchen counter, Astra considered the possibility of being able to continue finishing these banana pancakes with Vanden holding onto his back like especially stubborn ivy. But then he felt Vanden’s hands moving, sliding under the hem of the jumper he’d borrowed, clever fingers sliding across his stomach. They roamed up higher, pressed against Astra’s skin, circling his chest and up across til a thumb brushed over one of Astra’s nipples and he choked on a whine. Then the other hand did the same to the other nipple, and Astra looked down to the counter, squeezing his hands so his fingers pricked the palm of his hands. 

“...Vanden”, he gasped out quietly.

“You want this?”, Vanden asked, voice silk and soft and like a fencing blade, piercing with a question. His hands had gone still, flat against Astra’s chest. Astra inhaled, taking advantage of the brief clarity, dimmed by the heat roiling down his stomach to his cock. Finally he nodded, a noise of affirmation accompanying it. But the hands stayed in place.

“I want to hear you say it”, Vanden told him. 

“Yes, I want this.”

“Yes…..”

“Please, please, I really want this.” 

“Good boy.” Astra bit his lower lip in a whine as Vanden pinched at his nipples, rubbing the nubs between his fingertips and rolling his thumbs around them in slow, lazy circles. Each pinch and touch was another stoking of the flames, rolling coals down Astra’s spine to his cock that he could feel hardening against the side of the counter. He couldn’t bite back his need forever, eventually gasping in short breaths his gentle whines, head leaning back to stare up at the ceiling. The longer Vanden played, the more sensitive he became, and the feedback loop only grew stronger and stronger still. 

“Vanden”, he moaned out. “Vanden, please, I need more.”

“You’ll get it”, Vanden replied, his face nuzzling once more into Astra’s back. “Be patient.” His fingers squeezed particularly hard and Astra let a long moan roll out. Noise wasn’t really an issue in a place like this. Too many plants captured sound remarkably well. 

Done with pinching and bruising Astra’s nipples, Vanden began to stroke his hands back down across his torso, trailing fingertips over the skin. It was such a stark contrast to meer seconds ago that Astra could feel himself melting into the touch, panting quietly and whining when those fingers traced over sensitive areas of his body. His tail squeezed his ankle, keeping out of the way as much as possible for Vanden. Sure, he could be cheeky, could reach up to see if Vanden was as undressed as Astra was, curl around his cock in the way he knew he enjoyed. Or he could let him stay in charge, see where his hands ended up. Which, as it turned out, was one hand digging into Astra’s hips again and the other curling a fist around his weeping cock. 

“So fucking hard for me”, Vanden mumbled, voice partially swallowed by fabric, and Astra moaned as Vanden began to jerk him off. The movements were slow, Vanden taking his happy time as his fingers squeezed on Astra’s cock and rubbed along the ridges, his thumb pressing up against his head and rolling around to make Astra shudder and whine. He could feel how the ridges flexed and swelled within Vanden’s palm, slicking himself up under the back-and-forth pressure, meant to make it easier for Astra to enter someone but right now making it easier for Vanden to give him a lazy morning hand-job. 

“So gorgeous”, Vanden kept murmuring. “So fucking gorgeous, you are. You’re lovely, Astra, absolutely lovely. I could play with you all day just to have you moaning and beautiful. In my hands, underneath me, on top of me. I want to see you glowing. I want to see you radiant, more so than you normally are.”

“V-Vanden”, Astra stuttered out. There were tears pricking the corners of his eyes and he couldn’t understand why. His hips bucked up into Vanden’s fist but his other hand squeezed harder on his hips, pulled him flush back against Vanden and where Astra could feel his heated cock pressing between his ass cheeks now. His fist kept going so damnably slowly, twisting around and Astra knew he had to be leaking onto the floor by now, his ridge slick dripping over Vanden’s fingers and pooling on the tiles. Heavy panting gasps were filling the kitchen air, Astra’s moaning breaths and pleads for “More” and whispers of “Vanden, please”. Steaks of cold damp were running down his cheeks, and Astra stared at the ceiling and thanked the world for this.

“I love you.”

Oh.

_ Oh. _

The building heat seared into Astra’s body, flaring in his stomach and the warmth rushing out to fill every limb, while his cock pulsed in Vanden’s hand. He was faintly aware of a wet splatter on the floor as his cum spilled out, but his mind was such a dazed miasma of pleasure and emotion that he could barely sort out any viable thought process. He was definitely crying. But he was smiling too. As the ringing in his ears began to abate, Astra could now hear more concerned calls of his name, and opened his eyes to see Vanden, now stood beside him. His arm was wrapped around Astra’s waist, and Astra was faintly aware his knees were not completely engaged. He was wearing Astra’s morning robe, thin and green and showing off his arms entirely.

“You were very good there”, Vanden told him, kissing his forehead. “Now get yourself on a stool before you collapse on the floor entirely.” Pulling him up, Vanden sat Astra onto a barstool and grabbed some paper kitchen towel, beginning to clean him off. As he stood, Astra leaned in to kiss him, lips to lips in a moment of impulsive softness that he could feel Vanden melt into.   


“I love you too”, Astra whispered back. "My dear friend." And the blushing warmth in Vanden's face was all the worth it.   



	5. Astra/Cassian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains bondage, mirror sex and riding, as well as a bit of creative flair on Mantle of Majesty.

Astra’s tail was excited. Well, all of him was excited, heated from head to toe, rolls of pleasure in his stomach running through him. His tail especially, as it flicked about on the silken bed sheets, running across the material to delight in the sensation as well as throw about some of the energy inside of him. And it kept going, until Cassian’s hand grabbed the end of it.

“Astra”, he said. “Calm yourself. I can’t keep doing these knots with your tail threatening to poke my eye out.”

“I-Sorry”, Astra stammered back, dipping his head down and feeling a cold hard nub of shame sink down his gut.

“Ah, no, none of that.” Cassian’s fingers cupped under Astra’s chin, raising his eyes once more to meet Cassian’s firm gaze. “Control yourself. Don’t demean yourself.” And then a turn to his lips, a hungry smile. “That’s my job tonight.”

Astra smiled back up, this one eager and needy and excited. Cassian tapped his nose, then ran his fingers up into Astra’s hairline, curling his hand into a grip and pulling Astra’s head backward just right so his breath hitched and his eyes lidded down into lust. 

“Be a good boy for me, and you will get exactly what you deserve”, Cassian told him, and was rewarded already with a soft whine and the tilt of Astra’s head into his palm when he dragged his hand back around to Astra’s cheek. With another tap to his nose, Cassian sat back down behind Astra to continue with the array of rope he was working on criss-crossing across the tiefling’s body. To his due credit, the tail remained still, although the tip kept flicking up every now and again when Cassian’s fingers brushed across Astra’s thighs. It was manageable at least, and he could go ahead with telling Astra when to sit up straighter, when to squeeze his wrists together, when to go up on his knees so he could fix the rope around his thighs. It was so cute hearing how Astra’s voice got progressively breathier with each verbal check-in, the way he slipped down into the foggy lightness that came with ropes and blindfolds and other toys. And while the party were allowed to wander Shadebourne’s sixth tier district, upper-class and with much better quality of items, Cassian had definitely used this opportunity to seek out  _ proper _ toys to play with. One of these was currently nestled with Astra as he worked, a thick plug that kept him full after Cassian had already fingered him open, hunched over the bed and moaning Cassian’s name through his hand. The lovely darling hadn’t even let himself cum through it all, his cock was thick and hard with desire even now, but there was no pleading. No begging. That would surely come later, when Cassian carried out the rest of his plan for the evening.

By now, the long length of soft dark blue rope was crossing most of Astra’s body. A harness across his shoulders that wound down under his arms to wrap around his torso, creating excellent definition of his chest and lean stomach muscles. The rope circled his hips, curling out little handles that could be used to grip harder and better than just sinking his fingers over Astra’s hips (there were already deep purple bruises from fingering him earlier, and lighter bruises from just that morning). The criss-cross patterns wrapped around his thighs, and spread across his stomach, and wove up his back to where his arms were carefully netted into the harness. It was a perfect picture of blue and teal and green, Astra poised into a kneeling position, arms tightly bound behind him and keeping his back arched just slightly. His cock pulsed between the open thighs, framed by the rope either side, the ridges flexing without any touch as Astra’s body begged for friction and contact and  _ more _ . 

“Gorgeous”, Cassian whispered, praise bright and clear on his tongue. “Absolutely gorgeous, you pretty thing.” Chuckling warmly, he stepped away from the bed, took hold of the huge mirror within the bedroom (of course it was huge, the Zauviirs could afford such a thing), and turning the angle around so Astra could look back at his own reflection. Lips slightly swollen from fervent kisses, hair tousled just right despite being wound back into a careful ponytail that draped over his shoulder, cock weeping and desperate for attention, the plethora of bites across his chest. 

“You see”, Cassian said, sitting behind Astra and running a finger along his cheek, smiling at the reflection. When Astra’s head dipped down, eyes fleeing the sight, he took his chin and pushed it back up. “Gorgeous.”

“I’m….I….” Astra’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. Cassian waited, watching as Astra drank himself in, and was satisfied by how his body relaxed while he moaned in need at the sight.

“You are positively debauched, and beautiful in being”, Cassian told him. “And now, we will see the benefits of this. Sit up for me, my pretty pearl.” Tapping his arse, Cassian had Astra shift forward slightly, sitting up off his haunches so Cassian could sit between his thighs, his own cock hard against his cheeks. He slicked up his cock, having to press his forehead to Astra’s shoulders as his own touch grew the need to turn the tiefling over and push his cock inside immediately, listen to those sweet cries while he thrust in deep and hard. But he’d prepared all of this, he wanted Astra to watch and beg and moan in just the way that Cassian had planned. With careful hands he pulled the plug free from Astra, giving it a few twists just to have Astra whine his name and see Astra’s cock bob in the mirror. Then he lifted Astra’s hips up, and pulled him firmly down onto his cock.

Astra cried out, and so did Cassian, a groan of pleasure as the firm heat surrounded his cock. It wasn’t frustratingly or painfully tight, and Astra wasn’t calling his safeword, the plug had done its job perfectly. It’d kept Astra open for him, kept him prepared for now, where Astra was sat on his cock and tied up beautifully, head falling back against Cassian’s shoulder as Cassian rocked his hips up against Astra’s ass and moaned in pleasure. 

“Fuck”, he breathed out, looking over Astra’s shoulder to their reflection. “Look at us, Astra. Look at yourself. Look at how beautiful you are to me. Look at how beautiful you are when I fuck you senseless. Those pretty lips, swollen from kisses. All perfect.” He thrust up hard again, gripping onto the rope handlebars on Astra’s hips to pull him down and help him grind his cock deeper into him, deeper into that heat that squeezed and pulsed around his cock. Astra bobbed on his lap, thrust up by his hips as he fucked into him, moaning and mewling just noise at this point. Words were mostly gone, only empty pleading of pleasure and whispers of “Cassian” were all he could bring himself to utter. 

“What a beautiful sight.” Cassian pressed his face into Astra’s shoulder and rocked harder into him, delighting in how Astra’s cock dripped out onto the sheets with each rise and fall on his lap. He’d reached a pace where he could see his own cock now in the mirror, shining from sweat and oil and pre-cum, appearing and disappearing into Astra, past the swollen rim of his hole. The air was filled with music of their skin slapping against each other, heavy panting, Astra’s whining and cries and “Cassian, please” as if Cassian could give even more to him. Looking up to the mirror, Cassian watched with delight, enjoying this nearly as much as he’d intended for Astra to be aroused by the sight of himself so wrecked and debauched, fucked so thoroughly by Cassian. And it was there he could see….a glow? 

Yes. Astra’s eyes were definitely glowing a brighter gold than before. Golden lines threaded over the tiefling’s skin, winding across his shoulders and meeting at his sternum, vines and leaves making a tapestry, a mantle across his upper torso. Those lines rose up his neck to his chin, across his lips, shining out over his tongue.

“ _ Cassian, I need more _ .”

The whining, gasping, mewling cry was mixed with the richness of an unearthly choir, that Sylvan tongue that Astra used in so many of his songs. For a moment that stretched vast beyond Cassian’s consciousness, Astra wasn’t just a beautiful tiefling wrapped up in silken rope, his ass pressed wide open around Cassian’s cock. He was ethereal, eyes of sun and hair of silver and burning, burning in the reflection of the mirror. And Cassian was balls deep in him. His hands clenched tight to Astra’s hips, squeezed hard as he drove his cock in and out of him, overcome by a fervour to give, more and more. Astra’s cries became wails, no longer held back (thank all the gods Cassian had the bright idea to set a Silence charm in the door), his body shuddering as Cassian fucked him hard. 

“Cassian  _ please _ ,”, he moaned. Whatever he wanted to beg for, his words never reached far enough, as he mewled and his ass clenched hard on Cassian’s cock. The tight pressure sent shockwaves of pleasure through the elf, bowing him forward as he bit down on Astra’s shoulder and muffled his own long groan of pleasure. Heat roiled inside him, desperate for release, and he thrust up into that tightness to jolt whimpered cries from Astra. More, more,  _ he needed more _ . Reaching up, Cassian held on arm around Astra’s stomach and hips, and a hand up along his throat, feeling Astra’s heartbeat pulse rapidly under his fingers while his cock drove up. Again, again, erratically timed, chasing that crest. Listening to Astra’s mewling. Watching them in the mirror, the afterglow of that light radiating off from him, like the cum spilling out from his cock across the sheets, another wave of orgasm hitting the tiefling. Finally Cassian spilled himself, thrusting in hard and moaning as he felt himself pulse and empty into Astra, drawing another long moan from him. 

Pleasure seeped from them both, in the same way that sweat rolled down their bodies. Cassian could feel his cum dripping out from Astra’s ass, mixing with the other cum on the sheets. Prestidigitation could come eventually, he thought to himself, just trying to find his breath again. Astra was sagging in his arms, becoming little more than a teal tiefling noodle, wrapped up in string. 

“That was pretty fucking incredible”, he managed to whisper, and Cassian found a warm laugh roll out from that comment.

“Fucking incredible is a good way to describe it”, he replied softly. “Now, let’s get you down and cleaned up, dear Verdant Astra.” Lifting Astra off from his cock, he let him rest against his chest, Astra’s chin on his shoulder, while Cassian found the loops in his knots that let him unbind him easily. And while he worked, he took a cursory glance at the mirror.

A large crack had splintered the beautiful silver piece, the glass silently split right in the centre, where the divine Astra had been sat.


	6. Vanden/Cassian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains rough sex, sensory deprivation, bondage and choking. 
> 
> Content warnings for the rough sex and choking. It is not graphically violent and there is aftercare at the end, but I understand not everyone is comfortable with roughness.

There were days where Vanden wanted full control. He would take his title and wear it firmly, press Cassian down to his knees or hold him against the bed. Pleasure was taken for himself first, to see Cassian moan for him, and have himself be filled and fucked. 

There were other days when Vanden heard Cassian give a command and let himself fall away. He moved to Cassian’s orders, bent under his hand, was pulled and plucked until his thoughts were simply fog. It was bliss, sweaty and debauched bliss.

And there were days like today when Vanden wanted to  _ fight _ . Which was why now he was face-down in Cassian’s bed, the high elf’s hand fisted in his hair and pushing his head into the sheets, a copper aftertaste on his tongue from where he was sure Cassian had bitten his lip after Vanden yanked him into a bruising kiss. 

“You cheeky little  _ brat _ ”, Cassian spat, panting heavily. “Asking for trouble, aren’t you?”

“Maybe so”, Vanden grumbled back, getting his hands into place to push himself back up, twist himself around to grab Cassian’s lapel again and kiss him. But one of his hands was roughly grabbed and pulled away, shoved against the small of his back and held in place. The grip on his hair was released, just so that Vanden’s other hand could be snatched up and pressed into place at his back as well. With Cassian’s full weight on his hips, Vanden had to wriggle his shoulders hard to try and get any force behind getting free. 

“Don’t fucking think you can get away with that so easily”, Cassian growled out behind him, one hand holding Vanden’s wrists in place while he shuffled around, his weight briefly lifting from Vanden as he reached out for something. Taking the opportunity, Vanden bucked his hips, hoping to dislodge Cassian and turn the encounter in his favour. But he wouldn’t be budged, his fingers digging into Vanden’s wrists instead. Within another moment there was rope being looped around Vanden’s wrists and arms, a pre-made knot of some kind immediately pinning his hands together to give Cassian enough time to wrap the rest of the rope around his arms and lock them into position. As soon as Cassian’s touch lifted then Vanden began to squirm properly, flexing his shoulder and arms to break free of the rope, growling and spitting cusses over his shoulder. But the rope held tight, and now Cassian’s hands were free to grab hold of Vanden’s hair again and shove his face down into the bed once more. 

“You will behave”, Cassian snarled, and only then did Vanden realise that Cassian was leaning across his back. That harsh voice snapped at his ear, low and venomous. “If you keep acting like a brat, I will keep treating you like one.”

“Fuck you”, Vanden growled back, voice partially muffled by the mattress. But he could still move somewhat, and he twisted his shoulders from side to side, against the weight laying over his body. Cassian hissed at the response, and his weight shifted off from him. Briefly Vanden was left in confusion, before a thick strip of material descended across his view and his world became darkness. Unable to see his surroundings, unable to see Cassian or what else he was doing. He was definitely doing something, more rummaging sounds were audible while a firm elbow pinned Vanden down by the small of his back. Then his foot was tugged backward, and he felt rope beginning to wrap around his calf, knots being set into place before the rope tightened on his thigh. 

He struggled. He hissed and spat and tried to throw his weight up against Cassian, and was met with similar cusses and a grip in his hair, pulling his head up to be met with teeth on his neck, biting down and making him moan despite himself. He could feel Cassian leaning hard on his back, his elbow carrying a lot of his weight while he bound Vanden’s legs. Vanden was definitely sure he was making Cassian’s work harder to be carried out, kicking out his other leg when Cassian began to grab for it to tie it down as well. At one point he felt his heel connect to something solid, and heard Cassian swear angrily from it. That in itself made Vanden hesitate - there were lines, and the remnants of his moral conscious that had until now been sitting out of this felt a swirl of concern that he may have crossed one of those lines. But Cassian just took that hesitation as an opportunity to grab Vanden’s ankle and hold it down, looping the rope into place and tying his calf to his thigh again. Finally when Cassian’s weight lifted off from Vanden’s back and he gasped out, surprised at how his lungs had apparently been pressed down, he could feel himself thoroughly bound. Hands behind his back, legs pinned back so they couldn’t really move but his thighs could still be spread open. And behind him was Cassian still, breathing heavily from exertion. 

“Brat of a prince”, Cassian muttered. Vanden let out a wordless shout of anger, and got another fist in his hair. This time Cassian pulled his head up fully, forcing Vanden to rock back until he was kneeling on the bed, panting for breath as pain lanced from his scalp down his spine, becoming heat pooled in his gut. The tension had been building throughout all of Cassian’s ropework, his cock pressing against his trousers, and now surely Vanden knew with a rush of shame that Cassian would see them. He couldn’t see Cassian’s face, couldn’t see the sweaty brow and irritation or arousal the elf was regarding him with. All he saw was the blindfold material, and all he felt was the burn of his muscles, the burn of the rope on his wrists, and the hot need to be fucked. 

“Look at you. On your knees for me, so fucking hard after getting pinned down and tied up.” Cassian gripped Vanden’s cock through his trousers and Vanden gasped out, a breath punched out from the sudden pressure. He could feel Cassian’s thumb rub against the head of his cock, his fingers squeeze briefly before the hand was removed and Vanden could inhale again. Instead though he could feel swift talented tailor fingers unwrapped the laces of his breeches, tugging his trousers away and exposing his ass and cock to the air of the bedroom. The bed sagged behind Vanden, bowing with the weight of someone sitting down behind him, and one of Cassian’s hands gripped his hip with bruising intent. Not too shortly after, he felt a cold oiled finger press against the rim of his hole and push in.

“Fuck”, Vanden whined out, biting down hard on his lip as soon as the noise had escaped him. Too late though, for Cassian was already by his ear with a smug chuckle and his chest against Vanden’s back.

“My prince enjoys getting roughed around and fucked, doesn’t he?”, he purred. “Enjoys the consequences of being a  _ brat _ . Is that how I should treat you more often? Hold you down, pin you against the wall and fuck you?” 

“Cassian”, Vanden gasped, another moan spilling out as Cassian pushed his finger in deep and curved it, pressing up against his prostate and making his back arch. 

“Fucking stay still”, Cassian growled, and there was a hand wrapped around Vanden’s throat, pressing up against his chin and pushing his head backward. It seized him in his place, holding him steady as Cassian fingered him open. Vanden could feel every time he swallowed, his Adam’s apple rubbing against Cassian’s palm, how his heart pulsed beneath Cassian’s fingers. What would happen if he squeezed? What would happen if he just pressed down hard enough and Vanden found himself literally breathless? Even just those thoughts made his head spin and his lips moan. He rolled his hips forward, sank back onto Cassian’s fingers (there were two now, and the stretching sensation made Vanden whine for more), leaned his head back and offered his neck for sacrifice. There was nothing now except the press of palm to his throat, the slick sound of fingers up inside of him, Cassian’s ragged breaths by his ear. Even the rest of the room didn’t exist anymore, swallowed by the blindfold and by the litany of sensation. 

“I’m going to fuck you now”, Cassian growled by Vanden’s head. “And I’m going to have you  _ begging _ to cum, but you will not, until I am done with you.”

“Cassian”, Vanden whispered. “Choke me.”

“...What?” 

“I fucking said to  _ choke me _ , now do it-” Cassian’s hand tightened on Vanden’s throat and his voice was stolen, squeezed into nothing. Vanden choked briefly, the words caught midway, surprised by the sudden reaction.

“I did not hear you call me sir.” Cassian’s voice was silver steel, a verbal dagger dragged along Vanden’s jawline, edged in threat and dripping venom. His fingers withdrew from Vanden, and the bed seemed to tip underneath Vanden, falling away, loosing his footing within the situation. Up until the blunt head of Cassian’s cock pressed against his hole, thoroughly oiled, and pushed there for a moment before sliding into Vanden with a fast and slick movement. Cassian buried himself up in Vanden, hauling him in close while he ground up against his ass, a groan of pleasure prising out through gritted teeth. Vanden could only gasp as Cassian’s hand squeezed his throat and the elf began to rock in and out from him.

The drag of Cassian’s cock seemed to send lightning up through Vanden’s system. It wasn’t the usual lusting burning, pleasure and delight and anger all driving into him. Without air, there was something more - fear. Only thin breaths could make it into his lungs, and he soon found them desperate for more. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t moan, could barely whimper and mewl as Cassian railed into him. So much more was acutely aware to him, from the beads of sweat rolling down his chin to the press of Cassian’s cock with each thrust against him. All the sound around his head, besides the growing roar in his ears, was the slap of skin against skin and the haggard pants and moans of Cassian at the back of his neck. 

“Fuck, fuck, Vanden”, Cassian groaned out. He had to be getting close, Vanden was sure of it. It’d been going for so long, or had it? Had it just been seconds? In his current state he could barely register time. They could have been this for ages, for all he knew. Cassian fucking him for minutes, maybe hours. Everything blurred to softness, any kind of focus destabilising in his mind. All of it dissolved with the lack of air and the rapid swell of pleasure from the rubbing of cock against his prostate. Even the sensation in his fingers and legs was beginning to fade out from his conscious periphery. Vanden gulped, inhaled, found nothing to breath as Cassian’s grip tightened further, his thrusts getting faster. The tight squeeze of his palm to Vanden’s throat sent his heart rate rocketing, the rushing roar of emptiness getting louder in Vanden’s ears. Everything was

> Loud

And everything was

> Nothing

And Vanden was

> Who
> 
> Numb

Light exploding behind his eyes

> His name

_ His name _

Vanden coughed and wheezed, air rushing into his chest. There was hot liquid dripping out of his ass, and similar warm stickiness across his stomach. His fingers twitched, and he realised the bindings had come undone at some point. Cassian was over him, his voice speaking through water, until finally it came into clarity, calling out to him.

“Vanden! Vanden, fucking answer me!”, he snapped. 

“Fuck off”, Vanden wheezed. 

“Oh fuck. Oh thank fuck, you’re not dead. That is...that is perhaps not the best way to go, even for you”, Cassian murmured out, and Vanden felt a forehead press against his. Soft lips touched the bridge of his nose, incredibly tender. “I’m going to take the blindfold off now. Close your eyes.”

The warning was well needed. Even with his eyes closed Vanden winced as light filled his sight again, red through his eyelids until he felt he could start to peer out at the bedroom ceiling. Cassian was beginning to open a pot of some kind, smear cream on his fingers and work them into Vanden’s wrists (which Vanden could now see were blood red with rope burns, the skin grazed and raw). The touch made him hiss from pain, but Cassian just gave him a narrowed glare that told Vanden ‘I’m not going to stop so don’t bloody argue’. 

“That was certainly an event”, Cassian commented. “Have you got everything out of your system now?”

“I believe so”, Vanden croaked, and both he and Cassian winced at the sound. That was going to take a long time to go away. Maybe the pair could just pretend Vanden had a cold. “Although I’m pretty sure I have something  _ in _ me now.”

“It’ll drip out eventually”, Cassian said with a soft amused smirk. That was good. The tension was bleeding away, his fingers working gently over Vanden’s skin, no burning anger under Vanden’s fingernails or fists. “....Astra is going to have a fit when he sees those bruises.” Vanden reached up to his throat, brushed over his neck and felt tenderness and pangs of pain. He could only imagine the sight, unwilling in the moment to sit up and look in a mirror. 

“I just might need to invest in a scarf for a while.”

“Sariel will know.”

“Sariel knows everything, I really don’t think that’s a problem.” Cassian snorted out a laugh from Vanden’s response, and lay down beside him. Raising an arm was all that he needed to do before Vanden was pressed up into his shoulder, a leg hooked over Cassian’s hip as he drew himself in close and thought of nothingness.


	7. Vanden/Cassian/Astra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains sex toys, fuck machine, blindfolds, gags, and voyeurism (?)

Vanden’s world was darkness. No sight, only sound and sensation. The taste of the gag in his mouth. The strain of his hands, tugged above his head. The tightness of rope on his wrists. The rub of the cock ridges against his ass rim, puckered and swollen from constant use. Even the faint whirr of the machine that powered the cock currently thrusting into him.

He heard a soft breath before he felt the warmth against his ear, and he flinched instinctively. But then lips wrapped around his ear lobe and sucked, and his whole body shuddered with his moan. Those lips chuckled, breathy and delighted, and he felt teeth join in. Sharped canines, longer than most humanoids. Astra. Another pair of lips kissed under his jawline, very soft lips and a hot tongue that licked over his skin. Cassian. Fingers teased the underside of Vanden’s cock and he cried out through the gag, even just that faint stimulation sending a sharp response though him. 

“Patience,” Cassian’s voice purred beside his ear, followed swiftly by a sucking bite that made Vanden whimper. “Good boys are patient, they wait for touches. They wait to be given permission.” 

“You’ve been doing so, so well,” Astra spoke up to the other side of Vanden, nuzzling up against his jaw. “Three cocks, and you still haven’t cum. It’s going to be divine seeing you spill over me and Cassian.”

“Eventually,” Cassian added, kissing Vanden’s neck. “In good time.” There was the hum that accompanies a deep kiss, and a faintly surprised noise that drew off into a muffled moan. Kissing. They had to be kissing. Right in front of Vanden too. His cock bobbed, hard and red and so needy for their hands on him, touching him more. He wanted to be kissed, wanted them both to kiss him. And if not that, he wanted to be able to see them, how Astra would always gasp a little when the kiss was pulled away from him and how Cassian would always smile with his eyes, briefly appeased but still desiring more of those lips. 

“The next one, then?” Astra’s words brought a thrill of excitement to Vanden. The next one, the next toy, the next cock to fill him up even more and stretch his ass. There wasn’t even an end goal, beyond having the pair fill him up with their cocks and spill more of their cum inside of him. They’d already done that - Astra sitting Vanden on his cock and thrusting up into him with delighted whispers and feather-light touches, then Cassian bending Vanden over the bed with fingers under his throat and a tight grip on his hips as he ground into his ass. Now Vanden desperately needed more, and he would beg and whine and moan for it all. Toys were good for a while, but now he just felt himself drawn out tighter and tighter. A thread of pleasure pulled taught, ready to snap. 

There were sounds of rummaging further into the room, as Astra and Cassian went for the next toy, leaving Vanden still riding on the cock thrusting in and out of him. Faint conversation drifted over, far from Vanden’s ears but still certainly audible.

“Where’s that pretty dragonborn one?” Cassian was asking. 

“That should be in the blue box, the one with all the fancy designs in them.” 

“I don’t think I’ve seen this one yet.”

“Really? There’s definitely ones in here you’d like. See, this one’s in your colours!”

“It is…..that is very long. And are those gills at the base?”

“Frills. I think. What about this?”

“That looks like a tentacle.”

“But it feels so nice when you get it inside you. Don’t knock it until you try it.” Silence, more rummaging. “So, I have a few dragonborn ones. What about...this one?”

“That thing is thicker than your fist. It’s perfect.”

That description alone pulled such a moan from Vanden, it might as well have been a sob. Judging from the dampness on his cheeks he’d probably been crying for a while too. Not that these tears were a bad thing - they were simply the by-product of a long age spent sat on the humming machine below him, fucked slowly, fucked quickly, fucked with bigger and bigger toys. His ass ached with such a pleasant warmth of constant use, for however long they’d had him tied up and slowly leaking their cum over the thrusts of these toys. Tilting his head up, Vanden felt a gentle touch of fingers over his chin, before the grip firmed up and pushed his head upwards, pulling him upward as well.

“This one’s coming out,” Astra told him, a click of a switch forewarning the humming machine dropping down to silence, the toy stilling in its thrusts. Vanden whimpered, and tried to drop his hips as much as he could with his arms tied above him, chasing after the toy to fill himself back up. But the hand under his chin squeezed and he stayed in place, unable to move, just whining in need. Astra’s thumb rubbed over his lips, pressing down on the lower and slowly pushing into Vanden’s mouth, past the gag. He desperately wanted to kiss that thumb, to lick, to suck on it. Play his tongue across it and look up into Astra’s deeply flushed face. Instead Vanden could only moan as that thumb pressed down on his tongue, and the toy below him was pulled free. He wasn’t quite prepared for the hollowness that came with it, emptying out from him and leaving his ass twitching against the open air. Thick liquid still dripped out along the curve of his thighs, winding down his trembling legs. 

“What a good and lovely plaything,” Cassian said from behind him, his voice rich in pride. His hand pressed up against Vanden’s thigh, the fingers wiping away some of that warm thick liquid. “Doing such a good job at holding our cum inside.”

“Good boys get rewards,” Astra’s voice took on a sing-song tone, nearly hiding the wet sound of something being covered in slick oil. Immediately Vanden whimpered, eagerness making him tug on his bonds. Whatever that thing was, he wanted it in him. He needed it. Cassian’s fingers pressed to the rim of his ass and he moaned again, feeling those digits push inside and press against the walls, coating him with lube as well.

“I think he’s ready here,” Cassian said, very much speaking to Astra now. “He’s practically glowing from how red he is.”

“Really?” A shuffle of movement around him. “That’s kind of cute actually. Oh, look, I never noticed he had freckles down there!”

“You’ve been down there plenty of times, how didn’t you notice until now?”

“I was very preoccupied, as you should know.”

Vanden would have laughed if he could have. If his mind wasn’t under twenty layers of desperate need to be fucked again. Instead he whined impatiently and rocked his hips forward, trying to grind against any available surface. A sharp  _ smack _ against his ass sent white flashes up behind the blindfold, leaving him swaying and crying out. Another sharp  _ smack _ , this one not the palm of a hand but a thin surface that stung hard, made him scream against the gag. 

“Be patient.” Vanden never quite knew how Cassian managed to move so quickly. One moment he’d be inspecting something below Vanden or across the room, the next he’d be growling in his ear, just like that. Vanden shuddered, making a soft mewling sound through the gag. The knuckles of Cassian’s hand dragged down Vanden’s cheek, running down across his neck and collarbone. For a minute that felt too long, all Vanden could think of was Cassian’s hot breath against his throat, those lips no doubt just skimming above the skin. He had to remind his heart to keep racing, that it couldn’t stutter and pause with the tension for so long. 

Then he felt the blunt head of something thick against his ass. It was so wide, much wider than the previous toy, and it slipped up into him slowly with the slickened surface. Vanden’s back bowed but his hips were held in place as the cock was pushed up into him. Pronounced ridges pressed out against him, the feeling of scales making him sob. And the thickness, gods, Vanden was getting stretched even more than before. It was longer too, more length filling him up inside, the ridges beginning to rub against his prostate and making him tremble. 

“That’s right,” Astra cooed. “Take it all in like a good boy.” 

That was really all Vanden  _ could _ do. He tried to stiffen his legs, keep himself more upright, but the size of it all made him moan against the gag and sag down as he felt the movement inside him come to a still. Astra hummed a off-hand melody as he set the machine back to running, the whirr beginning to rise as it switched back on, another thicker click as the toy was set into place and Vanden could feel the shift inside him from that brief movement. Astra mumbled quietly, too quiet for Vanden to hear the words, and then the toy moved up and Vanden screamed.

“That is hot,” Cassian commented, and Vanden felt his hand press over Vanden’s stomach. “Astra, gods, I can feel a bulge.”

“Are you sure? It’s not that big a cock.”

“I think it’s the cum too. Look, just, feel.” The hand moved away, replaced by a different hand. As the machine began to work, the cock pulling out to thrust back in again, Vanden felt the rub of sensation through his skin against that hand and Astra quietly laughed in delight.

“You’re right. That is very hot,” he murmured to Cassian, and then there was that hum of a sudden kiss and the note of surprise, devolving into moans and the sounds of heated kissing. Vanden cried out, wriggling on his bonds but unable to move, unable to see. The toy was beginning to thrust in at a faster speed that the previous one, getting up further too and pressing hard against his prostate. It wasn’t just that sensation though that sent Vanden tumbling forwards towards another precipice of pleasure - it was listening to Astra and Cassian moan their delight, Cassian’s deep groan as Astra did something to him, Astra’s whispers of praise. A faint  _ thwump _ sounded, the impact of people against a soft surface like a bed. 

“Gods, Astra,” Cassian moaned. “I- Ah…”

“Shhh, it’s alright,” Astra spoke in light tones, filled with hungry inflictions. “I’ll take care of you now.” And then the conversation petered out into just noises, the soft whines and moans from Cassian. There’d be a harsh intake of breath, a long soft cry of Astra’s name. Once there was a pause of silence and then a  _ crack _ that made Vanden remember the thin object striking against his ass. 

“You’re being cheeky,” Astra commented with a laugh. “You know what I do to cheeky ones, don’t you Cassian? You love to be cheeky after all.”

“Perhaps,” was Cassian’s response, before he let out a gasp and a whine. “Fuck, Astra,  _ Astra _ .”

“That’s right. Keep saying my name. Maybe it’ll get you more of what you want.” Astra’s chuckle, like bells ringing on a warm summer evening. “You know that’s not how that works, my lovely little lily. I’ll give you what you want when I decide to do so.”

Vanden couldn’t see them, not in this world of darkness. All he could do was imagine. Think of Astra curved over Cassian, the pair of them on the bed together. Astra’s tail flicking back and forth as he bit down on Cassian’s neck, making him cry out and wriggle underneath Astra. But in Vanden’s mind, Astra was pinning Cassian down to the bed sheets, not giving him any space to move away from his lips, his tongue, his teeth. He was taking his time as always, drawing out the markings and the kisses across Cassian’s body. When he took his hands away from Cassian’s wrists to cradle his hips, Cassian sat up quickly to steal his own kiss, only for Astra to push him back down and kiss him hungrily, possessively. Using that kiss to press him down to the sheets and tell him ‘you’re mine’. Vanden knew how Astra liked to play - he’d tease out the pleasure for as long as he could. Straddling over Cassian, maybe his tail would end up wrapped around one of his ankles or pressing over his cock while he leaned down and kissed down his chest. He’d lap across Cassian’s nipples, moan against them, stare up to him with such hungry golden eyes that Cassian would shudder. If Cassian tried to move again, tried to break a rule, Astra would use his tail to strike or to squeeze, enough that Cassian’s back would bow and he’d drop back into the sheets to stay there. It never took too much ‘persuasion’ from Astra to lay down below him and accept the slow drag of pleasure as he worked from head to crotch, sucking marks into the skin and teasing over the hip bones before his tongue swirled around Cassian’s cock. 

Each laboured breath, each whisper of Astra’s name, each drip of praise and delight from Astra’s words continued to paint a tapestry in Vanden’s head, heightening the sensations from the cock thrusting harder into him. It was practically making him bounce on the machine, keeping the steadfast rhythm in fucking him, never speeding up or slowing down at random moments. The wet sounds of the slick toy pulling free only to slap back into him were background static, while Vanden tried to focus on the sounds of Astra and Cassian.

No, there were definitely more slick sounds now too. The monotonous slow slap of skin on skin, accompanied by heavier breathing. Cassian’s whines had taken to a new pitch, full of that desperation he only ever showed here in the bedroom. He was trying to speak, but rarely got beyond “Astra” and “fuck”, everything else dissolving into vocalisations of desperate want. Astra was still talking, still praising Cassian, even though his voice was becoming rougher with panting breaths.

“Love how you spread your legs for me,” he spoke, loud enough for Vanden to hear and add more strokes to his mental tapestry of sex. “You take all of me so well, Cassian, looking so pretty. How gorgeous you look, my marks across your neck and your chest, my hands holding tight to your hips, your ass taking my cock. Such a lovely ass too. So nice for me to squeeze and play with.” 

Another whine from Cassian, pitched even higher, and Vanden whimpered. Imagining Astra now standing at the edge of the bed, Cassian’s legs wrapped around his hips as he rocked into him. His hand reaching down to grope Cassian’s ass, making him cry out in such a lovely way. His cock driving into Cassian, the same way the machine was fucking into Vanden. So much sensation, so much pleasure. The waves of heat built up higher, further. Vanden cried out through the gag, tried to get the toy in further but unable to move. Thrusting, pitching, higher. The orgasm rolled in through his mind and body with a heavy weight while his back arched, his scream muffled but the reason why entirely obvious.

“There he goes,” Astra commented. “He couldn’t even wait for us to be ready for him. Well, we’re a bit busy now, so he’s going to have to wait longer anyway.” 

The machine continued to thrust, hotter pleasure filling Vanden as the overstimulation kicked in. It was going to keep going until Astra was finished with Cassian, or perhaps until they’d recovered from their own sex. Vanden moaned quietly with each breath, and settled himself into place. 


	8. Icarus/Damianos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Delphos chapter! Featuring hot make-outs, panic attacks and sex.

Everything was far away. Icarus stood, apart from the rest of Erran and the world, held in a breath and heartbeat that kept going forever. Somewhere beyond this moment was the faint shouting of the crowds and the heat of noonday sun that the cool walls couldn’t quite keep out, even though the slight breeze could abate the worst of it. Back here, in this private room beneath the gladiators’ arena, behind doors and curtains and half-slatted windows, it was all as distant as if Icarus was underneath the ocean’s surface. Nothing mattered out there, his mind drawn into this one place to focus on this one person.

Breathing heavily still, Damianos pulled the lion’s helm off his head, shaking out the head of sweaty hair before setting the helm onto a shelf with a solid metal  _ thunk _ . His whip was taken off next, clipped off his belt and examined before being added to the shelf. Oil glistened on his skin, wherever the armor wasn’t wrapped over his chest or legs, catching the dregs of sunlight and giving the dark red skin a burning bright hue akin to glowing metal. There was more yet, no surface area spared that had been oiled, as Damianos shed each bit of armor and revealed more body that carried a sheen. The lighting captured each curve of muscle and bone, along his neck and down his chest and stomach. Toned, scarred, and trained into the best condition. His arms flexed still as he tugged the pauldron off his shoulder, his upper body muscles taking on that partially swollen appearance that all muscles did after a heavy workout. Given that he’d literally wrestled down two half-orcs, it had been a mighty fight indeed and his body was still prepared for more. By now the hobgoblin was dressed down to his skirt cloth only, his sandals discarded. Grabbing a flagon of water, Damianos began to chug it back, and Icarus watched the bob of his throat with each gulp. It was impossible to look away, as trickles of water spilled past Damnianos’ lips and trickled down his jawline, making Icarus lick his lips on instinct. Without putting down the flagon yet, Damianos’ gaze shifted to look over at the triton, one yellow eye that pinned Icarus in place and made him feel like his own clothes were being peeled away. That gaze held him, kept him struggling to look away even though his heart was beginning to imitate a rabbit under a lion’s watch, until Damianos set the flagon back down.

“Glad to see you got my message,” he said, throat rough and hoarse. Not that Icarus minded that, oh no, that deep sound rocked down to his gut in the best of ways.

“It wasn’t exactly subtle,” Icarus replied. It’d been a hand on his arm, a voice murmuring to meet him in the back rooms after Damianos’ match in a timbre that had sent shivers down Icarus’ back and some difficulty in sitting still while up in the crowded stadium seats. The chuckle that Damianos made now sent a similar shiver through Icarus, accompanied by a small excited smile.

“I’m feeling pent up still after that match,” Damianos told Icarus, padding those few steps across to him. “And I like to get rid of that energy with a bit more activity. A cooldown, but a lot more heated.” 

“I think I get where you’re going but I just want you to say it,” Icarus said, unable to stop the small cheeky smile on his face. This wasn’t their first time in the back rooms, or in Damianos’ room, or hidden behind a taverna. But those times had been a bit more impromptu. Damianos seemed to have planned this one significantly more. He grinned back at Icarus, a smile that served to show his teeth more than it meant to charm.

“I want to take you on that cot and fuck you,” he growled out. “If you’ll let me.”

“I am very alright with this,” Icarus murmured, finding himself breathless as Damianos leaned in closer until their lips brushed together. That first spark of contact, the first sense of skin-on-skin, it felt like Damianos’ was on fire from the heat his body was giving off. Still heated up from the exertion and the temperature of the day itself. Icarus found a gasp yanked out of his throat from surprise at that heat, and Damianos promptly pushed into a hungry kiss. For all Icarus could have cared for, he was abruptly floating high above the ocean with the sun caressing his face, and he sunk into the kiss with an eagerness to reach higher. 

Damianos wrapped his arms around Icarus then, pulling him in close to his chest. He ate him up through that kiss, hands beginning to tangle up into Icarus’ hair, fingers dancing up against his scalp before tugging on his locks. Icarus melted, head tilting back into that pull, accompanied by breathy moans. Lips pressed against his neck, a tender kiss that dragged down his throat with the accompaniment of sharp teeth. Icarus hardly noticed that he was being shifted towards the cot until the back of his knees hit the side and he tumbled down onto the small mattress. He scooched backwards to let Damianos further onto the cot, but Damen dropped down onto his knees and grabbed hold of Icarus’ thighs, dragging him back in closer. A bulge could definitely be seen and felt through the skirt now, grinding up against Icarus’ crotch. Icarus grinned, grinding right back up against Damianos as he leaned up to kiss him fiercely. His hands scrabbled up, clutching onto Damen, clinging to his shoulders. The kiss got more and more heated, Damianos’ teeth raking against Icarus’ lower lip, biting and tugging and dragging more whines out from Icarus. Pushing down on Icarus prompted Icarus to push back up, the pair beginning to wrestle with panting breaths and moans as they ground more against each other. Icarus’ slits were beginning to grow warmer and wetter, the head of his upper cock starting to push out and become a more significant bulge for Damianos’ to rut against. 

“Let’s get this off,” Damianos growled out, tugging his skirt aside and discarding it on the floor. Icarus hesitated in the moment, drawn towards the thick cock that hung thick and hard between Damen’s legs. That hesitation would be his downfall, as Damianos took the opportunity to shove forward into another kiss and tug at Icarus’ wrists, causing the triton to collapse down into the cot. Now Damianos towered over him, gently holding his hands with a delighted toothy smile. Tilting his head to the side, he kissed each knuckle, his cock grinding at Icarus’ crotch and against the growing bulge of his own cock. Then he leaned down the rest of the way, pinning Icarus’ wrists up above his head.

“Another win,” Damianos said, pride trilling through the heavy breathing. Icarus slowly nodded, faintly aware of the rising heartbeat in his head and solidly aware of Damianos’ body weight holding his hands down. Any wriggling was negated, any movement couldn’t shift the grip on him. With the rush of blood came a sensation that rumbled, as if the ocean roar was muffled through stone and flesh. It lit something different in Icarus, not the heat and arousal but a distinctly bad sensation. His throat began to squeeze itself shut as if the pressure was on his neck, not his wrists. Each breath burned, every hurried draw of air feeling fainter and fainter. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t  _ move _ . Every nerve screamed to move but he was frozen. Damianos was talking but Icarus couldn’t hear him, not beyond the thud of his heart and the distorted waves. 

“Icarus? Look at me. Focus on me.” 

Maybe it was the touch on his cheeks or the slow realisation that his hands were free, but Icarus abruptly shuddered, inhaling rapidly. Damianos wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him up into an upright sitting position and stroking a hand down between Icarus’ shoulders as the triton continued to tremble and try to breathe. 

“Take it slowly,” Damianos whispered. “Hold it in for five, let it out for eight. See, like this.” He lifted one of Icarus’ hands to his chest, letting him feel the rise and fall of his chest. Closing his eyes and letting his forehead drop against Damen’s shoulder, Icarus let his body slowly match the breathing pattern he could feel. Slowly, slowly, in and out. His throat unclenched and his lungs lost their burning. After a while he could focus more on the touch between his shoulders, and the distant shout of the gladiator crowds. 

“Are you back with me?” Damianos’ voice was heavily laced with concern, any fight having drained off. Icarus blinked slowly and nodded his head.

“I’m here,” he replied, and Damianos pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

“I’m sorry I did that,” Damianos said. “I didn’t know that would hurt you.”

“I’m not hurt, I just….that put me back somewhere, and it didn’t feel good anymore.”

“That’s still hurting you. Even if it’s not pain.” Damianos kept looking across Icarus’ face, intent on making sure the triton had recovered from his panic attack. His hand on Icarus’ back moved away, instead slowly stroking across his cheeks. Icarus drifted into that touch, turning his head to kiss at Damianos’ fingers. Even the lingering exhaustion was beginning to ebb from Icarus, a heaviness in his limbs but nothing that distracted him from the moment.

“Can we keep going please?” Icarus asked. 

“Are you sure?” Damianos cupped Icarus’ chin, brow furrowed and serious.

“I’m sure, I know I am.” If only to distract himself from the mess he’d caused just then, Icarus told himself. He wanted to move away from that moment, and losing his mind in bliss and more important in Damianos’ arms seemed to be an apt method of this. Damianos squinted at him for another moment more before drawing him into a deep and lingering kiss. Teeth still dragged over Icarus’ lips but there was no intensity, no immediate desire to bite down as he had before. So Icarus did it instead, nipping at Damianos’ lips and tugging, listening to the low rumble in his chest as his expression began to turn heated. 

Back down onto the cot they fell, slowly like autumn leaves. Damianos left Icarus’ hands well alone, instead running his fingers down the inside of his wrists and down towards his elbows, tracing the lines of his muscles. They kissed hungrily, pulling apart to inhale or to bite down on each other’s throats. An awkward shuffle helped divest Icarus of his undergarments, tossed to the ground along with Damianos’ skirt, and when Damen’s cock finally slid against Icarus’ cock without any cloth barrier between them then Icarus arched up with a low moan. Damianos growled, but he didn’t dig in with any of the hot want that normally occupied their coupling. He was softer, more tender, his touch of hands and cock and lips taking Icarus slowly apart until the triton was melting from the heat. A brief scramble and reach brought a pot of oil over to the pair, Damianos nearly dropping it as Icarus bucked his hips up to grind against his cock. 

“Cheeky,” he muttered with a faint scoff, stepping off the cot to crouch down and dragging Icarus forward after him. With the rim of his ass just at face-level, Damianos dragged his tongue up across the entrance and Icarus sucked in a gut-punch breath.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered, letting whimpers roll out as Damianos continued to eat him out, licking and pushing his tongue inside with low groans of enjoyment. It was so easy to lay limp, feeling his muscles relax more with the increasing kneading of Damen’s fingers on his ass and the push of his tongue. The press of an oil-slicked finger against Icarus’ rim pushed another gasp out from him, this one accompanied by moans of sheer want. More, please, more. The thrust of Damianos’ finger sped up soon, a second and third added shortly afterwards to open Icarus’ ass up more. Each slick thrust sent a shiver through Icarus, gasping and moaning and pleas of “More” echoing through the room. Damianos smiled, turning his fingers and pressing them up against Icarus’ prostate, while he shifted up closer to lap his tongue across the slit of his second cock. Already he felt the head just below the folds of skin, and considering how much Icarus was whimpering it was no surprise that both cocks were being drawn out. Each lick of Damen’s tongue and every sucking motion, paired with the thrust of his fingers, only helped to draw it out quickly until he was bobbing his head on the length itself. It wasn’t for long though, only until he felt Icarus was loose and slick with oil properly, then he let his lips pop off from Icarus’ cock and withdrew his fingers from his ass. The instant response of whining in despair was sweet to hear, with Damianos taking his time in oiling up his cock. 

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss Icarus and steal away those noises of need. “I’m right here.” And he pushed his cock into Icarus, hissing against Icarus’ lips as the tight squeeze clenched down on him. 

“Please,” Icarus whispered. “Oh Kord, you feel so good, feel so nice.”

“So do you,” Damianos gasped out, pushing his cock in all the way. “Always, you always feel so fucking good. Such a pretty face, a pretty heart, a pretty cock.”

“P-Pretty heart?” That seemed to have surprised Icarus, and Damianos felt a flush to his cheeks.

“You care, and you care deeply, and that leaves you a very pretty heart,” he replied with warmth, pulling his cock out almost the whole way before sliding back in, watching Icarus’ back arch over the sheets. “Lovely, kind Icarus with a beautiful body and a clever mind and such a tasty ass.” 

“Damen. Damen, fuck.” Icarus stared up at him, those eyes wide, arousal and warmth and the faint glint of tears swelling within. Damianos admittedly had teased him out for far longer than he’d anticipated, and now he reaped the rewards as Icarus cried out pleasure with each thrust into him. His thick length, rippled by glands, pushed all the way into Icarus’ ass with a heavy slapping sound. Hips impacted against ass cheeks, the moans from both Damianos and Icarus mixing together in the sweaty air. Damianos gripped onto Icarus’ hips, digging his fingers in to hold on tight as he thrust in faster. 

“Damen,” Icarus gasped out, his voice breaking higher. “Fuck, Damen.” 

“You want to cum?” Damianos huffed out, grinning down at the flushed face below him as Icarus nodded. He pressed his face against Icarus’ throat, biting down before kissing the bruised patch. “Do it then.” 

The pressure on Damianos’ cock intensified as Icarus cried out, shuddering and both his cock spilling across both their abdomens. Damianos snapped his hips forward, the squeeze pushing him rapidly over the cusp, any rhythm he may have held staggering and falling. Moaning against Icarus’ skin, he released into him, spilling out thick and feeling the cum drip out past his cock and Icarus’ rim. 

“Good,” Damianos whispered, kissing Icarus and pressing one sweaty forehead against the other. “That was good.”


End file.
